The Hidden Paw
by 88Ivories
Summary: Continuation of E/O Challenge word: shoulder. It all starts with a drabble about Dean and a cat. How did Dean end up with a cat you might ask, well, it was all Sam's fault, but it's Dean who might win out in the end!
1. An Evening Companion

**E/O Drabble Challenge word: shoulder**

**Spoilers/Notes: Happy Birthday Kiwisplashj and 494dwangel! So, 494dwangel was requesting Dean and Sam and cat stories for her birthday, which I was already writing, then I saw the prompt for kiwisplashj this week, and decided to combine the two. Consider the drabble a teaser for what the more extensive "Cat-fic" Winchester story. Think of it like a sis-fic centered on a furball ... could be fun, yes?**

**The title to the story comes from T.S. Eliot's Practical Cats: Macavity**

**Word count: 100. In Chapter 1. I can't account for the rest.

* * *

**

**The Hidden Paw**

Dean was awakened by a tapping against his shoulder. He startled momentarily, and then recognized tiny paws. He turned just as a small dark nose nuzzled against his neck.

"What?" He whispered. "Did Sam kick you in his sleep again?"

He rolled over next to the furball of a cat in his bed. Dean frowned and pointed.

"You know, this never works. I'm not going to get any sleep with you there."

Apparently, the cat disagreed as she started purring gently, curling up next to Dean.

Dean sighed. "Fine. G'night, April."

The cats eyes were shut. In the darkness, Dean smiled.


	2. How to Care for Your New Cat

Sam was 12 when he found her, and it was entirely his fault, as Dean liked to remind him. Sam had dropped his sweatshirt during the hunt. It wasn't just any sweatshirt either, it was the sweatshirt he had found last year in the Salvation Army shop with his favorite Ninja Turtle on it: Leonardo. (Sam always knew that Leonardo was the best, even if Dean kept trying to tell him it was Michaelangelo). He loved the Ninja Turtles, and could never find Leonardo on anything, just Michaelangelo and Raphael. Sam had insisted that they couldn't leave without the sweatshirt, so the next morning him and Dean went back out to the woods to find it.

That's where she was. Bundled up in the middle of the sweatshirt was some fuzzy animal. It looked like a ball of brown and white fur tufts at first. Dean grabbed a stick and pointed it in the furball's direction.

"Stop!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm. "Don't poke it!" He leaned over the shirt and gingerly touched the top of the creature. It moved. Sam froze. Suddenly, a small head picked up and two tiny yellow eyes peered up at him. A small triangular stub of an ear twitched.

"Dean!" Sam whispered. "It's a kitty."

"Kitty? What kind of girl are you? It's a cat and you should shoo it off your shirt so we can get back before Dad wonders where we are."

Sam ignored Dean and sat down on the ground next to the shirt and the cat. He gently scooped up both the shirt and the furball and held it to him as he carefully began to pet it's tiny head.

"We can't leave it here. It's so cold, he'll freeze!" Sam looked up at his brother.

Dean turned away. He knew that look. Sam wasn't going to let up on this easily, although there was no way dad would let them keep a cat. Oh well, that could be dad's problem.

"Listen, you can carry him back to the motel if you keep him off of the seats, but Dad is probably going to make you leave him after that, so just be prepared."

Sam beamed. Dean sighed. Both got into the car, Sam still cradling his new friend.

* * *

"Absolutely not!" John's voice boomed over Sam's pleading. "Where is it going to go? Who is going to take care of it?"

Sam was still holding the cat in his sweatshirt while responding to his father's questions. "It can stay in the back, with me. I can do this dad!"

Dean was sitting on the bed out of the way, but Sam looked over to him for support. Dean had none to give. "I told you he wouldn't let you keep it," he muttered.

Sam's chin trembled, but he took a deep breath and swallowed. He knew how his dad felt about crying, and he wasn't ready to lose this fight just yet. Suddenly, he sat down on the floor, furball in his lap.

"I'm not leaving without the cat." He stated firmly staring up at John. _Civil disobedience. _That's what it was called. They just learned about it in school during the Martin Luther King Jr. program last week. Just like they did in Birmingham. He wasn't moving until his dad made at least some concession.

John looked down at his youngest, steadfast on the floor. If this was Dean, he could just make it an order, but with Sam, well, orders were already losing their effectiveness on his more stubborn boy and he wasn't even a teenager yet. He looked over at Dean sitting on the bed. Dean could read his father's expression. It said _talk to your brother and fix this._ Dean sighed and sat on the floor next to Sam.

"Sam. We can't take the cat in the car."

"We can't leave the cat to freeze to death."

"Okay, what if we just take it until we find a place, a warm place, where we can leave it."

"A warm place with people."

Dean sighed again and looked up at his father. John was getting impatient; he had gotten a call earlier from Caleb who needed him for a hunt two states away. This had already wasted too much time. He nodded at Dean. Dean turned back to Sam.

"Fine. A warm place, with people."

Sam finally turned and looked into his green eyes. "You promise?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Okay." Sam stood up, keeping hold on the cat.

John breathed a sigh of relief. "All right boys, in the car. We got a long way to go today."

* * *

The car ride went far more smoothly than either John or Dean imagined. Wherever this cat had come from, it seemed to know basics like not using Sam's sweatshirt as a bathroom. When they stopped, the cat jumped out and did its business before nuzzling Sam's ankles to be picked up again.

When they grabbed subs for lunch, Sam specifically got tuna and gave the cat some of his. When Sam fell asleep in the back seat, the cat curled up between his legs and napped along.

They met up with Caleb close to midnight, and the boys (and cat) were quickly hustled into a motel room of their own while the two men shared a second room to presumably discuss the hunt.

Dean sat on the bed near the door and stared across at Sam, with the cat laying peacefully on his lap.

"You know Dad is going to make us do something with that tomorrow, right?" Dean said to his brother.

Sam ignored the comment. He started talking to the cat. "I bet you are thirsty, let's get you some water." Sam gingerly moved the cat to the bed and got up heading toward the bathroom. Dean jumped up and grabbed Sam's arm.

"You are going to have to deal with this, and soon."

Sam looked up at his brother, trying to hide his emotions. "I know." Sam's chin started trembling and he quickly escaped his brother's grasp and finished his task of supplying the cat with water.

Dean sighed, watching Sam take care of the cat. _Why did he have to be like that?_ Sam was always becoming attached to something, friends, teachers, and now an animal. Of course, they always had to pick up and leave and then Dean had to watch as Sam left something else he wanted behind.

Well, nothing Dean could do now. Sam was already curling up on the bed, cat beside him. Dean leaned over to switch off the light. "Night, Sam."

Sam murmured back, "Night, D'n."

* * *

Dean was jolted out of bed by the loud banging on the door. He made his way to the door, spotted his father through the peep hole and opened the door.

"Dean, me and Caleb have work to do. We'll be back late. You still have some money, right?" Dean nodded, eyes still adjusting to the light. John continued. "Stay with Sammy, and do something about that cat!"

John turned to leave, and Dean shut the door and got his first look at the clock, 6:17AM. _Really, Dad?_

"What did he say?" _Crap, Sam's awake._ Dean sighed. They might as well get up, Sam rarely falls back asleep in the mornings.

"He's going hunting with Caleb all day, and you should get rid of the stupid furball."

Sam pouted. Dean came over and sat on his bed looking across at Sam. "You want poptarts for breakfast?" That made Sam smile and nod.

The two boys got dressed and headed out to the convenience store where they acquired poptarts, juice, and tuna. After feeding themselves and the cat, Dean reminded Sam of the inevitable.

"We have to do something with that." Dean nodded in the general direction of the animal currently batting at the zippers on Sam's backpack.

Sam sighed. "I know." He went over ans picked up the cat nuzzling his chin into its fur. He could feel the vibrations as the cat purred against him. He dumped out his backpack and placed a sweatshirt inside, although not Leonardo, and put the cat on top of it. Then, he stoically headed out to the car.

* * *

As usual, the best laid plans of the Winchester brothers never quite work out the way they want, and after an hour or so of trying to figure out where a person would leave a stray cat, they finally encountered a "Closed on Sundays" sign on the local animal shelter.

Dean was getting tired of Sam's sad faces and the constant talking to the cat, so he offered to drop Sam at the library for a bit while he went to an arcade he saw nearby. Sam always liked libraries, and Dean could have sworn he saw Ms. PacMan through the window. He was right. After a few games, and a few wagers with the local kids, Dean returned to pick up Sam $20 richer and in a much better mood.

Dean's smile quickly faded however when he saw Sam's anxious eyes waiting for him, cat in hand, just outside the library. He got into the car and barely even got the door shut before he started babbling.

"We need to buy some things for April, a pan for litter, and a bowl to drink out of, and a pillow to sleep on ..."

"Wait, wait, wait! April? You named it now? And what are you going on about, we're just going to take it to the shelter tomorrow."

Sam stopped and looked over at Dean, eyes wide. "No, we can't do that."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at his brother. "And why not?"

"Because shelters kill stray cats. I was talking to the librarian about it. They say that they want to find homes for the animals, but usually they just keep them in tiny cages until they get sick and then they kill them. We have to take care of her now." Sam's eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to tremble.

_Crap. _There was no way Sam was going to give up on this and no way their dad would allow it. Dean looked into his brother's damp, hazel eyes and watched him nuzzle the cat. Maybe this would be a good idea for the kid. Give him some responsibility and a friend. If they proved to Dad that Sam could take care of it, it could work.

"Allright." Dean finally said. "I'll help you figure out how to take care of the cat."

Dean watched as his brother broke out into that beaming smile that even Dean can't stay mad at for long.

"But first, April?"

Sam's cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked down at his new friend. "So, I was reading this book about cats, and ... it turns out she's a girl. Since she liked Leonardo so much, I figured I'd name her after April O'Neil."

Well, Dean couldn't argue with that.

* * *

John and Caleb didn't get back until late, so it wasn't until the next day that the boys had to explain why the cat was not only still in their possession, but now had toys and a name.

"I thought I told you to find a place for the cat." John's voice was quiet, but firm. He looked right at Dean who was standing with Sam, and April, this time. "Do I need to make that an order."

Dean matched his father's stare. "You always say that we help save people who can't save themselves. Well, this cat ... April, won't be able to save itself in a shelter. We keep innocents from dying, right? What's more innocent than a helpless cat?"

John sighed and sat on the bed. Dean had hit him with an argument that John simply had no good answer for. He knew that his boys would never forgive him if he forced a probable death sentence on the cat. He looked up at the hopeful faces on his boys. John saw how carefully Sam took care of the cat and how hopeful he looked. He knew that the life he had dragged Sam through seemed to disappoint the youngster again and again. Maybe this time, he could do the right thing. Make his boys happy. John took a deep breath. He hoped this was the right decision.

"You know how much responsibility comes with taking care of a pet?" John asked looking up at his sons. Sam's eyes lit up and any remaining anger John had about the cat melted into those hazel spheres.

"We can do it, Dad." Sam said confidently, nodding. "I know we can do it."

John stood up and patted Sam on the shoulder and gave a smile and nod to Dean. Then he looked down at the now squirming furball in Sam's arms. He reached carefully to scratch behind its ears.

"Now, what was your name again?"

Sam broke out into a full smile and his dimples deepened. "April, Dad. Her name is April."

* * *

  
**A/N: So, hunting with a cat? I have some ideas ... keep an eye out for a combination of fluff, adorableness, and boys and their cat ... let me know what your ideas are too, maybe I can incorporate some!**


	3. Cats are Natural Hunters

Six months later.

"Goddammit Sam! April is sitting in my duffel bag. Again."

Sam smiled across the motel room at Dean. "I think she likes you Dean."

"Just get her off my stuff!"

Sam went over and picked up April and she purred in his arms. She had assimilated into the Winchester trio surprisingly well in the last few months. She was always content to sit for long periods of time either in the various motel rooms, apartments, or during long drives. She quickly found the small aluminum pan that Sam turned into a litter box and used it perfectly. She also stuck to Sam like glue, including hiding out inside his backpack on many occasions. The only problem was that she seemed to like Dean, although Dean remained at best indifferent to her existence and at worst, well, shouting at Sam to get her off his stuff.

Dad had been in the middle of what seemed to be quite a complicated hunt out in the woods of Southern Illinois, and they had been living in the town of Medora for almost two weeks. There wasn't much to do in back country Illinois in the middle of July, and cabin fever appeared to be setting in, at least in Dean's case, and his annoyances with both his little brother and the cat being underfoot were becoming noisier.

"Sometimes I don't believe I helped talk Dad into keeping that ... thing." Dean mumbled, checking his bag for any traces of cat contamination.

Before Sam could compose an appropriate response, John opened the door. "I need you boys to come help me out today."

Quickly, both were standing at attention waiting in anticipation of their hunting orders. "We have to go talk to quite a few people, will probably be out all day. I need you two to talk to the kids of the family's we stop at. Find out anything you can about what's been going on. We leave in five minutes."

The boys moved quickly to gather stuff and finish getting ready. Sam put April in his backpack leaving the zipper open and she stuck her head out the side.

"Really?" Dean said, scowling at Sam. "We finally get out of here and you have to bring the cat?"

Sam shrugged. "I could leave her. You have lots of clothes laying around for her to sleep on."

Dean shoved past his brother to the door. "I suppose you'll need something to talk to while I help Dad anyway." The two left the motel room racing out to the Impala.

* * *

"So, what is there to do around here in the summer?" Dean asked the smaller boy with the dirty blond mop of unkempt hair sitting on a tire swing. This was the third kid they had spoken to today. Nobody seemed interested in talking about much of any thing. Of course, everyone here was pretty on edge due to the disturbances that their father had been investigating.

Dad had given the boys the rundown in the car. The small portion of this town seemed to have been infested by some kind of prank-loving ghost that didn't appear to be bound to a particular house. A variety of what seemed like practical jokes were being played on about 5-6 families, and the jokes had been escalating. They started with objects simply being lost from one house and found in another, up to and including one man's car, which had somehow gotten into his neighbor's fenced in backyard.

The pranks had increased tension among the neighbors and then finally came to a head when one man slipped on his kitchen floor that had been covered in bowling alley wax and cracked his head open on the edge of a counter. His wife found him dead when she woke up in the morning. That was when John Winchester got involved.

Unfortunately, he'd gotten almost nowhere. It wasn't a ghost. That was about it. Getting information had been difficult, and all the families in the area simply kept blaming each other. However, they did all have kids that apparently used to play with each other, before the trouble started. The kids didn't seem interested in talking to John though, parents around or not. That's when John got the idea to interview the kids using his own. Hopefully, Sam and Dean could find out something useful.

So far, not much luck.

The kid on the tire swing, his name was Mitch, dragged his feet in the mud below the swing as he shrugged at Dean. "We used to swim in the lake, but Mom said I can't go since Dave got his leg caught and almost drowned. We used to have a secret club too, but nobody's parents will let us play together anymore. So, I guess there's nothing to do."

Dean was getting awfully tired of this. The boys were closer in age to Sam, but Sam was so busy messing with his freakin' cat that he barely listened to the conversation. Dean felt like he was babysitting, not hunting.

Mitch noticed Sam poking around in his bag. "Whatcha got there?" He pointed his chin in Sam's direction.

Sam looked around a bit nervously. "Umm, a cat."

Mitch perked up a bit. _Maybe that furball will be of use after all!_ Dean sighed with relief.

"Can I see?" Mitch jumped off the swing and went over to Sam. Sam opened his bag and April's white head poked out. Mitch stuck his hand toward her and she nuzzled against it. "Hiya." Mitch said. "You know, we had a cat, the secret club. He was black with white patches and kept hanging around our clubhouse, so we would bring leftovers and put out water for him. I hope he hasn't starved since we quit meeting."

Dean, ever the careful hunter, came over to listen to Mitch. "There's a clubhouse? Where's that?"

Mitch looked at Dean skeptically. "It's a secret clubhouse."

Dean dug into his pocket and produced a five-dollar bill. "How secret?"

Mitch snatched up the money and gave Dean directions. Soon, he and Sam were on their way.

* * *

The clubhouse was pretty nice. Apparently these backcountry Illinois kids all have tons of time on their hands and carpentry skills. Dean searched for odd things, dead plants, EMF, etc, but found nothing. Sam was looking around inside when April leapt out of the backpack and ran out the door.

"April!" Sam shouted and ran after her.

"Shit." Dean mumbled. This was going to be it. The cat was going to run off and Sam would be miserable to be around for the next month. He sighed, and then started off for the door to watch the inevitable.

When he reached the door, he froze. It wasn't the sight he expected. Sam was standing about two feet outside the door and about five feet in front of him was April, back arched high and tail straight up in the air. She was hissing at the mostly black cat that was pacing about two feet in front of April. She bent her front end low, and then pounced toward the other cat.

"April, no!" Sam shrieked and started to leap forward.

"Sam!" Dean grabbed his little brother and held him tightly while they watched the cats. The black cat deftly bounced out of April's way and April reached out a paw and scratched at him. He hissed at her then glared at Sam and Dean and ran back out into the woods. Dean let Sam go and he ran toward the cat and knelt down next to her. April came right up and jumped into Sam's arms as if nothing had ever happened. She began to lick her paws and smooth back her spiked fur.

"What was that all about?"

Sam was still breathing heavy and hugging April. "I ... don't know ... she's never ... been like that ... before."

"Yeah." Dean was in agreement. The cat might drive him crazy, but she has always seemed to like everyone and everything she'd ever met. This was the first time they'd even heard her hiss. "We gotta tell Dad."

Sam nodded in agreement and both boys quickly grabbed their stuff and returned to meet their father at the Impala.

* * *

"So you're saying she attacked this other cat?" John was pacing the room, thinking, and questioning his boys for about the third time about their story.

The boys were sitting on opposite beds nodding at their father. April was still in Sam's arms and had been since the clubhouse. She seemed fine. Sam was still pretty shaken up by the whole thing.

"She's never done that before." Sam's voice was small and trembled slightly. John looked at him for a moment and then remembered that he had to be a father as well as a hunter. He sat down beside Sam and put an arm around him.

"I don't think that anything is wrong with April, okay?" Sam nodded, but didn't look up. John looked over at Dean who also appeared to have relaxed now that his father was no longer pacing. Well, his boys were getting older. If they were going to be involved in this hunt, they should be completely involved.

"It is widely held belief that animals have an innate sixth sense, especially about supernatural things. So, I think April may have sensed something in this other cat. Problem is, I'm not sure what it could be."

Sam's head snapped skyward at the explanation and his eyes lit up. "So, you mean April helped us find information!"

John smiled at his youngest. "Yes, that's what I mean. The only problem now is to find out what that information means."

Dean stood up from across the room and came over by John and Sam. "We can help with that, too. Come on, Dad."

Now with both his sons staring eagerly at him, John knew that he had no choice but to keep them in the loop on this hunt. "Okay." He said. "Well, we need to do some research."

* * *

After an hour of combing John's books and another hour in the local public library, they were still pretty stuck. At least Sam was much happier than before, and absolutely content to read through books with April in the backpack at his side. Dean, on the other hand, was starting to drive John nuts with the constant pacing and changing books and general stir-craziness that his eldest tended towards during research times. John had also called most of the contacts in his journal and was starting to wonder himself if they would ever figure this out.

"Dad, what about this?" Sam came over with a book of myths and folk legends, usually good material for finding supernatural beings. He pointed to a story called "The Maiden and the Imp" and started explaining.

"The imp is a little creature that likes to play pranks on people because it thinks that they will be its friend afterwards. In this story, the imp could look like a little man or a bird or a cat. I think we have an imp!"

John took the book and skimmed over the story. "I think you're right, Sam. Now how do we kill it?"

After a bit more digging around, and about a topic that was much more interesting to Dean, they were pretty sure they had some sort of solution. They returned to the motel room to prepare before heading out the clubhouse.

"Now, repeat the plan back to me." John said to his boys, both standing at attention.

Dean jumped first. "First, we salt the inside edges of the clubhouse and put lighter fluid on the walls, then we play in the clubhouse while you wait nearby in the trees, then when the cat comes to see us, we lure it inside and you salt the door and we run out."

Sam cut in at this point. "Then you say the spell that will keep the Imp from changing form and we burn down the clubhouse. Do we have to burn down the boys clubhouse, Dad? It was really nice."

John sighed. Sam always did care about the people they helped. "I'm sorry, son, but I can't think of another way to be certain we've burned out the Imp."

Sam nodded sorrowfully. "What about April?" He added.

John looked at the cat resting quietly on the bed. "I think April has done enough good today, and we don't want to scare off our Imp, so she should stay here. However, I'm pretty sure we can manage to hunt down some fresh fish for her tomorrow as a reward."

Sam beamed and John smiled at the cat. As if she could understand him, April stood up, jumped down off the bed and walked over to John's legs weaving around his ankles. He bent down to pick her up, something he'd rarely done since he let Sam keep her. She purred in his arms.

"You just might end up earning your keep around here after all." He said quietly. Then he stood back at attention and looked at his boys. "Okay! Let's get ready and get this trouble causing imp!"

A quick scatter of preparation and the hunt was on.


	4. Making Your Cat Part of the Family

**A/N: I apologize for being way late on this story! Work, life, well, you know. I'm trying to get back on top of it more consistently. First, though, let's get this up to something a little more current.  
**

* * *

The imp-burning was a success, and turned out to only be April's first hunting adventure. She quickly earned her status as part of the family, that is for the majority of the family.

**

Three months later

October, 1996

"Dammit, Sam, this whole car smells like tuna." Dean shouted toward the back seat from shotgun, rolling down his window and allowing the bitter Michigan wind to whip into the car.

"Sorry." Sam replied. "I can't help that there are crazy potholes here and the bowl fell over. I'll clean it up when we stop."

"I thought we were going to try and feed her outside the car anyway?"

"Well, it's freezing out there, and by the way, we'd appreciate not being frozen by the wind back here."

John turned and gave Dean a look. Dean rolled his eyes and the window back up.

"Freakin' cat." He muttered under his breath.

**

January, 1997

"Happy Birthday April!" Sam shouted upon waking up in the morning.

Dean buried his head under his pillow. "Some of us are trying to sleep, here."

"But, we found April one year ago today. We should celebrate."

"That's not a birthday! It's an anniversary at best."

"Happy Anniversary, April!"

"Sam!"

**

March, 1998

Dean exited the bathroom, finally clean after a serious struggle in the mud with a poltergeist who didn't want to be dug up. On the table was a bag from the greasy place next door and Dean could smell delicious bacon and beef. He walked over to peer in the bag.

"Don't touch it, Dean, that's for April."

Dean whirled around to Sam. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

"She is the one who found the grave site. She deserves a reward."

"I'm the one who wrestled the ghost in the mud!"

"But you do that all the time."

Dean was not amused.

**

November, 1998

Sam and Dean were busy cleaning guns and knives after a hunt out in New Hampshire. Suddenly, they heard a loud yelp from the bed and Dean's duffle fell on the ground. April was squirming and meowing inside of it.

"Aha!" Dean shouted as he jumped up and pointed. "I knew she still went in my duffle. You can't train a cat to do anything. See that! Who's the smart one now?"

Sam rushed over to help April out of the bag. He picked her up and then suddenly got very angry and brought her over to Dean. Dean shrugged at hm. "I hear it's a very effective training method. Better than yours."

"Dad is not going to like this." Sam said as he pried the mousetrap off April's paw.

Dean watched. Maybe he felt a little bit bad. _Maybe_. Well, at least he knew that his underwear would be cat-hair-free tomorrow.

**

April 1999

Sam was at math league. Dean was waiting for him in the car. Dad was out with Pastor Jim somewhere.

April was sitting in the front seat. Quietly.

Dean was humming Metallica. He glanced at April. Her head was tilted just slightly so it seemed that one of her yellow eyes was watching him.

Dean stopped humming. April turned her whole head in his direction.

"What? You like Metallica?"

April kept staring at Dean.

"Ok, then." He resumed humming. Then he began to sing quietly. He heard a funny sound and looked over at April who was looking straight ahead again. He stopped for a second to see if he could hear the sound.

Again, April turned her head toward him.

"Okay, okay, I get the message!" Dean said as he resumed singing. The sound appeared again. Then, Dean realized what he was hearing.

April was purring.

**

November, 1999

It was nobody's favorite day, and Dean knew it. Fortunately, Sam was pretty busy with homework and studying for some practice SAT test or something, so Dean was hoping that he wouldn't even notice. He would stay late at school and then want to work in the back room of the apartment for quiet.

John was already half a bottle of whiskey into the afternoon. Dean was already getting worried.

Dean decided to sharpen the knives. That was usually pretty calming.

About an hour later, Dean noticed it was quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet. Dad wasn't usually a quiet drunk so much as a ranting, annoying, yelling at the television drunk. Especially on this day. Dean ran out into the other room.

John was in a chair staring out the window. The half empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to him. Or at least Dean hoped it was the original bottle and not a second one. That wasn't unheard of. He quietly crept up beside his father.

"She insists upon being pet. It's awfully hard to refuse, you know." John said quietly as he turned and looked up at Dean. Dean saw his father sitting quietly with April sitting on his lap, nuzzling her head into his hand.

"Yeah. Umm, I'm in my room if you need me." Dean managed to reply. He quickly spun back around and headed back to his knives. He blinked his eyes rapidly and swallowed a small lump in his throat.

_I can always go back to hating her tomorrow,_ he thought.

**

February, 2001

"Sam!" Dean roared toward his little brother, although he had to look up to look him in the eyes. _When did the kid get so freakin' tall?_

Sam looked completely innocent. "What?"

"What is this?" Dean held up three little pouches. Sam took one, examined it carefully and sniffed it suspiciously.

"Hmmm ... smells like catnip."

"And why were they in both my pairs of boots?"

Sam shrugged. "You should watch out where you leave things."

"Goddamnit, Sam! She chewed up the edges, half the laces, and tore the soles out! You owe me new boots!"

Sam shrugged again. "Maybe next time you will consider the consequences when you mess with a man's shampoo." Sam pulled his hat snugly over his patchy balding head and walked away from Dean.

Dean stared at April sitting on the bed, her yellow eyes wide with curiosity. Dean wagged a finger in her direction.

"Don't you even think this is over, yet. You just watch your tuna, missy, you hear me!"

Dean kept staring. April kept staring. Dean started to think April might be smiling at him. He abruptly left to go glue together what remained of his boots before he did something to the cat he might regret.

**

August, 2002

Sam thought Dean was asleep, but how could Dean have actually fallen asleep knowing that Sam was leaving for Stanford tomorrow? Still, Dean was good at faking. He knew Sam thought he was asleep, because Sam was talking to April.

"You keep an eye on Dean, okay? Don't get into his stuff too much and keep him company. Watch Dad too, all right? Don't let anything happen to them. I'm sorry I can't take you, but they are pretty strict in dorms and I can't afford to lose my board money. I'll miss you, April."

Dean wished he was asleep. Then he wouldn't have to think about Sam being gone tomorrow.


	5. Cats Can Sense What Goes on Around Them

Sam had only been gone for a few months, but to Dean it felt like an eternity. Him and his dad had been hunting practically nonstop. Dean was pretty sure it was Dad's way of keeping his mind off Sam. Dean knew that John was scared of what might happen to him on his own, but after the blowout they had before Sam left, well ... He hadn't exactly been talking about it, at least not to Dean. Talking was neither Dean nor John's way, so they did what they did best: threw themselves into the job.

Right now they were in some small town in Arkansas. John was out doing interviews and Dean was cleaning his guns, again. They were beyond spotless, but cleaning the guns was calming, so he just kept doing it. He didn't like getting on the computer, Sam was much better at that then him anyway. _Sam's not here though._ The realization came upon Dean again, and he paused for a moment.

_Fuck. _Dean got up and started packing up the guns and checking on the knives. Just staying busy. He glanced to the table and saw the small furry figure sitting right up in the middle of it. Dean sighed.

"You are not supposed to be on the table. You know that." He said to April. She just stared at him silently. He grabbed a towel and walked over swatting April's legs with the edge of the towel. She hopped out of the way and then went over to the bed near the bathroom and sat on that.

_Sam's bed. _Of course she would go there. Although, Dean was there now, because John insisted on the bed by the door. _Guess he wants to protect what he can. _It still felt strange sleeping in Sam's bed. April continued watching Dean, her yellow eyes following his movements across the room.

Dean had been avoiding April. She was Sam's cat. He didn't even want to take care of her. He felt like a kid who's parents went on vacation without him and brought him back that stupid t-shirt. His shirt would read "My brother went to Stanford and all he left me was this stupid cat."

Fortunately, John picked up Dean's slack. For John, April seemed to have the reverse effect. He doted on the cat as if he could make up for everything he didn't do with Sam. Dean couldn't even bring himself to feed her. Watching his father play with her all the time wasn't helping.

She apparently either didn't notice Dean ignoring her, or thought it was some kind of game, because lately she was refusing to leave Dean alone. After years of staying out of his bag, he caught her in there twice in the last few weeks. Made him consider the mousetraps again. She also had a nasty habit of trying to curl up on his feet in bed. Now, it used to be Sam's bed, but still. Dean typically tried to kick her off. It hadn't stopped her from returning almost every night. It wasn't helping Dean's ability to sleep, which wasn't that great at the moment.

Dean looked at April again, sitting on his bed. "What's wrong with Dad's bed? Really? He doesn't smell that bad. I know he doesn't."

April sat still and silent.

"Stupid cat."

Dean sat down at the table and pulled out his machete, figuring it could use a good sharpening. Just a few strokes in, her felt something soft slide against his ankle and looked down to see April encircling his feet.

"You really aren't going to give up today, are you?" Dean said to the cat, putting down the machete. "So, what? Are you hungry? I thought Dad fed you before he left." Dean glanced over and sure enough there was tuna and water in April's bowls. "How about some tunes, only, you are going to have to listen to my awful singing voice because there are no good radio stations in Bumblefuck, Arkansas."

As if in affirmative response, April lay down on Dean's shoes.

"Okay, then."

Dean decided on Led Zeppelin IV, side 2.

"Walkin' in the park just the other day, baby,  
What do ya, what do ya think I saw?"

April started purring. Dean smiled and kept singing and sharpening knives.

For a few minutes, he got himself lost in the tunes, and was starting to feel really good for the first time since Sam left. Actually, the thought had just about slipped his mind, until three songs in.

"Spend my days with a woman unkind  
Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine  
Made up my mind, make a new start  
Goin' to California with an achin' in my heart"

Dean stopped suddenly. "Shit." He would never have started with Zeppelin IV if he had remembered that one was on it. Dean was right back where he started, with a pit the size of a cannonball in his gut.

Suddenly, April jumped from Dean's feet up to his lap. He was surprised. In all the years they had April, she never jumped on Dean's lap. She always sat on Sam, and occasionally on John, but with Dean she always stuck to his feet or sat beside him. But right now, she was settling herself right on top of Dean's thighs as if she belonged there.

Dean pulled his hand slowly along her back and she purred. He sighed.

"You know what the problem is? The problem is that Sam was the interesting one. Me and Dad, I mean we get along fine, but there are things he just won't do. Practical joke wars, random celebratory pie nights, and I don't think Dad is going to wrestle me over the shower. So, I love my Dad, but you know, things just aren't the same. Of course, I'm sure you notice that too." April purred again.

Dean looked down at April and smiled. "Well, at least it seems I may still have someone to talk to."

With that, April stood up and leapt down to the floor. "Or, at least when you want to listen to me!" Dean shouted after her.

He sat for a moment in thought. Then he heard a rustle and quickly got up, heading for his duffle bag.

"April! Get out of my stuff! Freakin' cat."

Still, Dean was smiling again.

* * *

**A/N: 494dwangel - this chapter was all for you, pure denial!angst!Dean**


	6. How Cats Communicate

**This occurs sometime while Sam is at Stanford. I'm picturing February 2004**.

* * *

The Impala sped along the road on the way to Texas. At least Dean was going somewhere warm, he left Dad up in Minnesota. There was something strange going on there that appeared to be related to a shapeshifter, but Caleb was also there, so when Dean got a call asking for help with some poltergeist-type thing down near Austin, he jumped at the chance.

There was only one problem with this situation, April refused to leave the Impala. Dean and John had been trying for weeks to switch her to the truck. They moved her food dishes and blanket in there. They picked her up and sat with her in the truck. They tried to lure her in with catnip. However, every time she simply bolted out of the truck and back to the Impala.

John finally just looked at Dean. "I guess she's going to have to be your cat now."

Dean didn't mind when they were together, because John still did his share of taking care of April, but times like this when he went off on his own, it was just him and April.

Dean looked over at her, laying in the passenger seat.

"You know, I don't like to stop half as often as Dad does. I play loud music and sing along. Also, I will kick you if you get into my duffle bag. So, why do you insist on traveling with me?"

April remained silent and still.

"So, what? Am I getting the silent treatment now? Do you object to CCR?"

Still no response. Dean sighed. "Well, this is going to be a long trip and so you better be cool with it."

He turned up the volume as the strains of "Left a good job in the city ..." floated through the speakers.

* * *

It had gotten pretty dark, but Dean didn't feel like stopping. He hated stopping when he was on his own. He hated motel rooms with only him. It reminded him too much of when Sam was there.

Problem was, he could feel himself getting tired. Singing along wasn't quite cutting it.

"Shit." Dean said aloud.

"Mrrrow." A response came from behind him. April poked her head over the front seat from the back where she had been sleeping and then catapulted herself onto the seat next to Dean. She sat upright and looked at him, precariously maintaining her balance while car took a turn.

"What do you want now?"

"Mrrrw." April repeated.

"Well, aren't you being chatty tonight." Dean was a little surprised. April was rarely a meowing kind of cat. She seemed to prefer gestures over noises. She repeated her meow, this time with the growl of a purr on the end of it.

"So, what? You want to have a conversation with me? Is that it?" April purred again.

"Okay, well then. How about this: what is this infatuation you have with my car? I mean, she's beautiful, there's no doubt about that, but you can't even experience the joy of driving her. Shouldn't the back cab of the truck be a better place for a cat? Really. Tell me, what's the deal."

April meowed a few more times, then stretched her paws out to Dean until she was stretched clear across the seat and the edges of her paws were touching Dean's leg.

"Okay, so it's spacious. I get that. You can't possibly want to spend all your time with me, though. Dad is much more interesting."

April made another sound. Dean interpreted this one as a disagreement.

"Really? So you think me and my five albums over and over again are fun? I also only tell 3 jokes and will poke you to amuse myself. You still want in this boat?"

April pulled her body back up and crept toward Dean, laying her head on his leg. Dean couldn't help but smile at her.

"Fine. I can't exactly argue with that. However, this is my driving leg, so be aware of that."

April didn't seem to mind. Nor did she mind the conversation, albeit one-sided for the next hour or so. Dean stayed awake, and maybe even enjoyed himself.

* * *

Dean got to Cedar Valley, Texas, just outside of Austin the next day. He met up with Chris, who they've worked with once before in Arizona on a ghoul case.

Turned out that Chris had already done most of the leg work, and after an hour or so in the local library they had a likely address.

They arrived in the Impala, April kindly stayed in the back, and found an abandoned house, or most of one. The house only had about two walls and two thirds of a roof. After a bit of searching they found what was left of the opening to the cellar. Dean helped lower Chris on a rope and stayed topside on guard.

He wasn't expecting the first strike. It whirled past him like a tornado, nearly throwing him into the hole where Chris was working.

"I think I've almost got it!" Dean heard the shout from the hole as his back hit the ground.

"Oof. Yes. I believe you." Dean responded. He reached for the shotgun, pulling himself up to sitting. "Where are you at you sonofabitch?"

Dean pushed himself back against the wall and scanned the room. Suddenly a small storm of concrete rocks were flying toward Dean's head.

"Fuck." Dean tried to block his face with his arms and the shotgun. A few small pieces cut past his arms and hit his face creating tons of tiny pinpricks on his cheek.

"Hurry up down there!" Dean shouted.

"Just another minute." Chris shouted in response.

"I don't think I can take another minute." Dean mumbled. Then he shouted out to the open air, "Hey, you coward! Show yourself."

That seemed to work. A figure slowly appeared across the room.

"Found you." Dean held up the shotgun and fired. The figure dissipated. Dean slowly pulled himself to his feet, still watching. "I knew you'd like a little rock salt in the gut."  
He stepped away from the wall. "Chris?"

"Thirty more seconds." The voice from the cellar answered.

Dean heard a creak to his right. He turned quickly, but before he could shoot the tornado blew by and knocked him over again. He fell onto his side and felt a sharp pain in his upper arm. "Fuck!" The cracked edge of a beam held bits of flesh and blood where it tore against Dean's tricep.

The figure appeared again, about five feet from Dean. It moved toward him slowly, then it stopped and started screaming as it went up in a burst of flame.

"I got him!" Chris shouted from below.

"It's about time." Dean muttered.

* * *

That night, Dean declined Chris's offer to bunk with him and sprung for his own motel room. He knew that he was going to have to deal with these injuries, and he didn't know Chris well enough for that.

Dean managed to get himself and April into the room before he collapsed onto the bed. The stinging from his face and arm hadn't gotten any better and his back ached from when he landed on it earlier. He knew that he should really clean up, but he hadn't slept in over a day and couldn't bring himself to move.

"Mreow." April called from the opposite bed.

"Dude, whatever you want, it is going to have to wait."

A moment later, Dean felt his bed shift just slightly as April climbed up. She walked right next to him up to his head.

"Really, April. I am not moving." Dean shut his eyes.

For a moment, both Dean and April were still. Then, Dean felt Aprils whiskers tickle across his cheek, and her rough tongue licked at the bloody pinpricks left from the concrete.

Guess he wasn't going to have to clean this all up alone after all.

Dean slept that night with April curled up at his back. He couldn't have imagined a better heating pad.

On the drive back the next day, Dean talked and April responded. They sang together to Metallica, and Dean stopped to buy April a piece of real tuna from a real grocery store.

Maybe April being his cat wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I probably rushed that ending there a bit, but you can fill in the blanks however you want! Anyway. I'm back, I should be a bit more consistent with this one for a while, and Sam's back next chapter! How is that going to affect this new Dean/April dynamic? And how will April react to Jess and Sam's reaction to her death? Warning, drama ahead, with one cute cat to help out!**


	7. Cats Have Excellent Memories

**A/N: Finally, another chapter! Sorry all, my life is a little all over the place lately. Also, this chapter is a bit less humorous and a bit more dramatic, but there was no other way to jump into the Season 1 timeline. I've still got a few future plans for the furball, though, so more will come, at some point! Thanks to all my lovely readers!**

* * *

She was one of the first things Sam noticed when Dean came to find him at Stanford. April, sitting shotgun in the Impala.

"Hey you!" Sam said, smiling and reaching out his arms. "Remember me?"

In response, April jumped right up into Sam's arms and ran a rough tongue across his chin. Sam laughed.

"Apparently you do." Sam turned to Dean. "So, you took her? I always figured you'd leave her to Dad or something."

Dean shrugged. "We tried that. She wouldn't leave the Impala, and well, neither would I. It was like a compromise."

"Well, at least she seems to remember me." April was happily settled in Sam's arms as him and Dean got into the car. "Maybe if you want a break she could come live with me and Jess for a bit." Sam muttered more at April than at Dean.

Dean stiffened for a moment at the sound of that. Then he shook his head. It's just a cat, and Sam's cat for that matter. Who cared where the cat lived, plus he could always swing by.

Dean started the car and began to give Sam the lowdown on the case. April jumped back into her backseat bed, which is where she stayed until the fire.

* * *

It was April that made Dean stop and turn around. He had barely gotten halfway down the block when she screeched and jumped right on the seat behind his head. He swerved for a moment, then pulled the Impala off to the side of the road.

"What the fuck was that, April? You see Sam for two days and suddenly go crazy?"

April mewed loudly and jumped into the backseat and then up against the rear window, staring back at the building where they left Sam.

Dean was confused. April hadn't acted this erratically in years. He looked at her, and then looked out the back in the direction she was staring.

That's when he saw it. The shadow in Sam's window. Dean didn't know what it was, but it wasn't Sam or Jess, and he didn't like it. He quickly spun the Impala around, slamming it into a parked position just across the street from Sam's apartment. He bolted toward the stairs.

The rest is nearly as much of a blur as it was 22 years ago. There was fire and heat, and his little brother fighting to go back and Dean dragging him outside.

They stayed in a motel that night. Sam was so quiet, and Dean didn't know what to do. For a while they both just sat in silence.

April was the one who broke the silence with a small "mew" as she stretched on the bed next to Sam, paws and head on his leg. Sam reached down almost still by habit and scratched the back of April's head. She crawled up into Sam's lap, and Dean watched his brother pick up April and hold her tightly. His head was bent down and she reached her neck up to nuzzle against his chin. His shoulders began to shake as tears slid down his cheeks and into April's fur. She didn't seem to mind.

Dean wasn't the praying type, but he sent the universe a silent thank you for April because she was able to do for Sam what he couldn't even begin to know how to do. Dean didn't think Sam got much sleep that night, but he knew that April was there. That was enough.

* * *

April didn't leave Sam's side that whole week. The boys spent every waking hour, which was most of them since no one was really getting a whole lot of sleep, searching for something, anything that would give them a lead.

Dean was the one who finally called it.

"Listen, Sam, there's nothing here. Dad left us coordinates, let's check them out. He knows more about this then we do. If we can find Dad, we can find out what he knows. Hanging around here is not helping, and it's not good for you."

Sam was hunched over his computer, April at his feet. He sat up and looked at Dean sadly.

"I know." He stood up, causing April to quickly dart across the room. "Just, let me think for a bit, okay?" His eyes pleaded with Dean. Dean knew his brother. He knew that Sam wouldn't be on board unless he made the decision on his own.

"Okay, fine, but we have to decide today, because I need to know if I have to rustle up cash for another night here."

"Gotcha." Sam's thoughts were already clearly drifting away. "I'm just gonna take a walk. I'll be back."

Dean watched Sam carefully. He hadn't let him go anywhere alone the whole week. He wasn't sure he wanted to let him go now. Dean realized suddenly that Sam had lost his furball shadow. He glanced around the room and saw April curled up on Sam's bed, content.

Dean sighed. If April was okay with Sam going out alone, Dean could be okay, too.

"Alright. If you aren't back in an hour I'm coming after you though." Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. Sam managed to give him about a half smile in return, and a nod, and then he was out the door.

The sound of the door closing caused April to stir on the bed. She sat up and looked over at Dean. He pointed a finger at her. "You better be right about this, or I swear ..." His statement was interrupted by April taking a leap off the bed and then another up onto Dean's lap.

"Oh, I get it. That was just all a ploy to get some good old-fashioned Dean time, huh?" April purred in response. Dean scratched the brown patches of fur behind April's white ears. Dean didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he kind of missed having a cat on his lap, her being on Sam's all week. He looked down at her and her yellow eyes peered back up toward him.

"We're gonna find Dad." He said to her, very quietly. "We have to."


End file.
